Another day, maybe
AN: So, another story. This one born out of a deep need to procrastinate. To slack, one might say. This story is slash. With no actual naughty touching. Five tiny 'chapters' and we'll be done, folks. Enjoy!
I don't own BTVS or Grey's Anatomy. Nor do I make money from this story.Another day, maybe
Xander walked into Seattle Grace Hospital and headed for the surgery wing. He was here to get a glass eye. After the third time being arrested in Africa and after the fifth being detained at an airport for ‘looking suspicious,’ he decided enough was enough. Sure the eye-patch helped deter other sorts of people from bothering him, absolutely nothing, nothing
was worth sitting in a dirt floor cell with nothing but a hole in the ground. More importantly, nothing was worth dealing with airport security in an American airport, if you could avoid it. And he could.
The Council was paying for this lovely bit of plastic surgery, which Xander thought was rather fitting. Willow had even gifted him with an easy spell to give his new, fake eye depth perception. This gave Xander a happy. Sure, he was still of the sight impaired and lacking in peripheral vision department but depth perception would be freaking awesome.
Xander was just strolling into the surgery wing when two women walked quickly by him, only to stop abruptly. One was waving her arms around and yelling ‘seriously’ a lot. Xander was pretty sure that she had used up her quota for that word for the entire year by the time she wound down. The other woman simply watched her, said ‘whatever,’ and walked away. Odd, but really not that odd. Xander stopped short as he fully entered the floor, since people were yelling everywhere and generally being super intense. He shuddered, horrible memories of Christmas with his parent dancing in his mind, turning on his heel, he walked right out again. Another day, maybe.